


"The capsule of death"

by ArgusJade



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Anger, Angst and Feels, Best Friends, Blood and Injury, Blood and Violence, Canon-Typical Violence, Drugs, Family Feels, Gen, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, References to Drugs, Sherlock Holmes and Experiments, Sherlock Holmes on a Case, Trust Issues
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-14
Updated: 2019-05-14
Packaged: 2020-03-05 11:59:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18828256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArgusJade/pseuds/ArgusJade
Summary: Sherlock is confronted with the fact that his best friend now has a family and he is no longer the most important person in John Watson's life. He tries to deal with it and this can happen in his eyes only by a new case. What he does not realize is that he got the interest of a serial killer who hires him for a case only to get closer to Sherlock Holmes who will be his next victim. Also, since the last incident, where Sherlock had shot a person directly in the head, Sherlock has been trying to bring his drug addiction back under control, but with less success.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This work isn't beta read, i apologies for if you find some mistakes in it. I hope you still enjoy to reading it.

Sherlock did not feel like he was busy anymore, he had spent months in his old home now, making his living in his living room and waiting for new cases. But the new case just did not want to surrender and that literally drove him mad. Watson was more concerned about playing family than giving him time because of the child, which did not help make him feel better.

 

He did not feel important anymore, but he would never admit it, he was too proud for that. Although Mary tried to send Watson here and there so that this would not give his best friend this feeling, this could not change the condition. As long as he had had Watson already as his partner, he had never thought that one day he would have to give him away to something like a family.

 

When he was so in his thoughts, Ms. Hudson came in. Somehow the good soul and the only one left after all. On her face was a warm smile and came closer now. His apartment did not look very neat and he could read in her face that she was not too excited about it. He shrugged and sat up. He was still in his pajamas.

 

"You know that order is not my thing, so do not give me that look." He sighed and looked at the tablet with tea and cookies. "No case for weeks ... it still drives me insane." He said and easily took the cup of tea from the tablet.

 

"Maybe something will turn up, or you'll call Watson and he'll give you some company?" She really tried to cheer up Sherlock's mood, but that just did not work.

 

"I will not call him, if he wants my company he will come to me." There was something disappointing in his voice. Then he got up from the sofa and went to the window. From there he saw a man staring directly in his direction. This instantly aroused Sherlock's interest, without further paying attention to Ms. Hudson he walked out of his house in pajamas and there this man was still standing. 

 

"Can I help you? You've been watching my house for a while now... At least I can tell by the cigarette butt around you. Did my brother put you on me?" Sherlock avoided being too polite, because it was just not his style.

 

The man came closer now and smiled. "Not quite, I'm more here because I have a job for you. They say, you are the best, and it looks like they were not wrong." 

 

Now Sherlock looked irritated and raised his eyebrow. "Is that so? And what job do you have for me, maybe I'm not interested?" He said and was about to go back to his apartment. What frustrated the man behind him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The days passed and still no new case. Driven by boredom, Sherlock sets out one evening to explore London's nightlife with a surprise he did not expect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This work isn't beta read, i apologies for if you find some mistakes in it. I hope you still enjoy to reading it.

It was one of those evenings when Sherlock was home and getting bored again. John was busy and not with him and he had no desire to call his best friend this evening. A sigh came over his lips as he grabbed his scarf and his black coat and left the house on Baker Street. He had to find something interesting that night. A new case that would grab his attention. He had not been in demand for weeks and that made him restless and uncomfortable. Everyone who knew Sherlock knew he had to avoid him.

 

Late evening, London. It was filled with people from all over the world. Everyone had their dream in London and tried to fulfill this dream. He had none, at least not one that could be fulfilled. As he roamed the streets, alone and watching the people around him, his mind wandered to a life he once must have led. He had taken some of his drugs before he left the house and this opened his mind even more than usual. He felt a door open and memories came. He inhaled these and was in his intoxication of the senses and saw everything clearer than ever before.

 

Suddenly, a man came out of a side street and came towards him, he had been able to watch it days before and had told him that he had no interest in his case. Here was this again and had a smile on his lips and this gave Sherlock a less good feeling.

 

"Hello Mr. Holmes, I thought after the last time you ignored me, it's time to reiterate my case that my boss has for you." And pulled a knife out of his jacket pocket and came closer.

 

Sherlock clenched his jaw and stepped closer. "Are you threatening me? Not really smart..." he said and something dark shimmered in his eyes, whether it was the drugs, or what always lies dormant in him, something where he had access to even where he had no memories but now through the drugs in his system. Now in here, it was there and he took advantage of it. He did not like it when someone threatened him or cornered him.

 

"I have a message to your boss, Sherlock does his own business, and if he has a case for me, he / personally / should come to me and not send his stupid stooge." He hissed and then he pulled a small knife out of his jacket pocket with a blue handle. He always carried it with him and then made a quick move forward and stabbed the point straight into his arm where he knew he had caught a certain nerve and tendon and severed it. His attacker suddenly dropped the knife he had in his hand to the ground. "Be glad I did not stab your heart..." he said, smiling now. "Share my message and leave now."

 

The man looked at him in shock, his eyes wide, he felt the pain rush through him and his arm slowly numb. He underestimated Sherlock. He nodded slowly. "You will hear from us the next days, I assure you." Then he disappeared before Sherlock could do him more.

 

As the man disappeared into the night, Sherlock felt the thrill of the moment still pouring through him, combined with the drugs, gave him the ultimate feeling. Slowly, he took a deep breath and put the knife back in his jacket pocket. The blood on it was enough to find out who his attacker was. He walked quickly back to his apartment. He probably had a case now.


End file.
